


Hard Landing

by SinisterScribe



Series: Improbably Yours [2]
Category: Star Trek: Discovery, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Also includes some West Wing characters, Amanda needs a minder, Angst, Because I be like that, Drama, F/M, Fisticuffs, Guns, Humans are space orcs, Sarek forgot to finance for chill in his budget, Swords, acting on said feelings, cloak and dagger bullshit, code phrases and everything, diplomats are wild cards, he has none, inappropriate use of starships, just because you have a bond doesn't mean you know how to communicate, political shenaniganary, seriously someones gonna be in trouble, talking about feelings, terrorist cells, this one has the smut y'all, we are all about informed enthusiastic consent in this house, woe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-16 17:49:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29828652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SinisterScribe/pseuds/SinisterScribe
Summary: A sequel to Stars Rewritten.Sarek and Amanda attempt to adjust to life back on Earth, discovering their new normal...or lack thereof.Coming home is not without its own difficulties. There are adjustments all round, concessions to be made and new variables to consider. That's before we even get to whatever the hell is going on with the Andorian Ambassador, her nephew and what Amanda has to do with it all.Turns out; things DO actually happen at Headquarters.Amanda knew she was safer on the war correspondence circuit.
Relationships: Amanda Grayson/Sarek
Series: Improbably Yours [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2192781
Comments: 26
Kudos: 35
Collections: Humans Are Space Orcs





	1. Coming Home

**Author's Note:**

> Here we go with part 2!
> 
> I do highly recommend reading part 1; Stars Rewritten first. It's long, but it sets up my characterisation of Amanda and Sarek as well as explains some of the frankly bonkers plot points referenced herein. 
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy!

**Coming Home**

****

**_San Francisco, Federation Headquarters, the Press Briefing Room…_ **

Amanda’s head never lifted during the entire Press Briefing.

The Press Secretary was droning on about…something…she didn’t know what and she didn’t particularly care.

She sat with one leg folded over the other, padd propped on her knee and her recording device aimed haphazardly at the podium where the Press Secretary was currently holding court. Amanda was dressed much as many of the other hacks in the room, pressed slacks, crisp shirt. Though her shirt was a little more rumpled than theirs and her battered much patched canvas jacket was currently occupying the seat beside her rather than another journalist. She liked her space.

It was Friday, trash day. The day when the Administration bunched all the stories they wanted no one to talk about into one briefing. A holdover from when articles were more restricted to a physical written format. When only so many column inches were available for each piece of news, one had to be picky and choosy about the juiciest morsel of gossip to salivate over. Bunch all the unsavoury stories together and they had to be squished into the same column space but at a fraction of the size.

In a certain sense, it still worked. Having so many topics for discussion available at once tended to split the attention of the room and some of the truly newsworthy topics did sometimes slip through the net.

Or…they would have if the Federation ever talked about the actual god damn _news_.

Amanda rolled her head on her neck and tamped down on the flare of annoyance beneath her sternum. She had no desire to attract Sarek’s attention through their bond which, while in its relative infancy, was still strong enough for him to sense her emotions across the city.

Though Amanda didn’t want to think about Sarek right now as she had actual work to do.

Not reporting, not in a Briefing Room, but something more important.

Amanda bit her lip, scrolling down through the search results her padd had given her and considering her options. No one name jumped out at her but she supposed they wouldn’t. She’d never had call to investigate this particular branch of legality after all.

Amanda’s mouth twisted and she returned to the search engine for the Network. She tried a few more key words and tilted her head when that appeared to offer no further enlightenment.

Still, there were a few names that looked to be promising, having been highlighted in earlier searches. She flipped between apps, jotting them down with a scrawl of her stylus and lifted her head when a murmur went through the room.

Ah, time for lunch.

Finally, something worthy of her attention.

Amanda collapsed her padd down into its smallest form, shoving it into the inner pocket of her jacket as she slung the worn canvas over her shoulders. She pushed the stylus through the knot of her hair atop her head and spun away for the back of the room.

Amanda ducked between the security personnel, things having been doubled up since the whole kidnapping incident that both had and had not resulted in a foothold situation in this very building.

There was still much debate as to what had actually _happened_ when the Gorn had taken both Amanda and Sarek on an involuntary vacation but paranoia had won out and security measures had been put under strict and stringent review.

Still, Amanda was accustomed to getting to where she needed to be.

It was a quick jaunt down a corridor, up a stairwell, into a lift and across to the office wing before she arrived where she wanted to be.

“Carol.” Amanda smiled winsomely at the Press Secretary’s assistant despite the exasperated glare levelled her way and walked through the open doorway into CJ’s office.

She found a likely chair, next to the goldfish tank, and dropped down into it. Arranging herself just so. She appeared as if she had been there all along by the time CJ herself arrived and shut the door to her office with some force.

“Bad day?”

CJ whirled, half lifting her synthetic leather covered padd and pressed her lips together when she found that Amanda was no threat. Physically anyway.

“How do you _do that_?” CJ huffed but didn’t actively throw Amanda out.

Amanda took that to mean she was welcome to stay where she was.

CJ, Claudia Jean, Cregg was one of Amanda’s favourite press secretaries. She was amazing at her job and wrangled a somewhat rabid Press Corps with aplomb. She was tall, her long legs carrying her across the office to her desk so she could sit in less than three strides. She dumped her padd on the desk and dropped into her seat, glaring at Amanda but with no real heat to it.

“I mean it. How do you always manage to get across the building before I can _and_ look more fashionably dishevelled than mussed up wreck?”

“I don’t have a gaggle of reporters breathing down my neck?” Amanda shrugged, smirking at the ‘fashionably dishevelled’ but offered no further comment on it. “I just wanted to run something by you and then get out of your hair.”

“I’ve been lied to before” CJ grumbled, rummaging in her desk drawer for a cool box that may contain her lunch.

“Uh-huh, well, I have a source close to senior staff, says if the President wins re-election it will cost them the moon.”

CJ went still for just a fraction of a second too long before huffing out a harried breath and closing the drawer on her lunch with some force.

“Source close to senior staff?”

“Yep.” Amanda nodded.

“Cost them the moon? Those exact words?”

“Verbatim.”

CJ sighed cavernously and Amanda repressed a wince. This was, by far, the shittiest thing she’d done in this stupid place holder job.

“Can you give me until the end of the day?”

“CJ, I don’t care about the quote. I wanted to give you a heads up is all.”

“Sure.” CJ gusted something of a hollow laugh. “I’ll get back to you with an official statement by the end of today.”

“Do what you like, it was a friendly warning that you’ve got loose lips in here.” Amanda pushed to her feet, CJ shoving to her statuesque height after her and that threw Amanda a little.

People were doing that more often. Standing when she did.

She had a sneaking suspicion as to _why_ and she wasn’t at all happy about it.

Well, a problem for another day.

“You mean to tell me that you’re the only hack in the whole quadrant that doesn’t want to write about the President’s re-election campaign?”

“President Bartlet hasn’t done much interesting since they told that Terra Prime sympathiser where to go and even then, I didn’t write about it. I was off, you know, covering _actual_ news.” Amanda sighed. “I’ll go now.”

CJ frowned a little, disconcerted by a reporter that apparently didn’t care to report on what others did and watched as Amanda left the room.

“Amanda!”

“Yeah?” She turned in the open doorway.

“Thanks for the warning.”

“No problem. Take an actual lunch today. I hear Marbury’s in town.” With that parting shot, Amanda closed the door behind her and made for the stairs.

She had taken her lift for the day to get over here and had zero intention of getting back into one before the day was over. A holdover from her kidnapping that had only happened according to her, Sarek and some confused Gorn several lightyears away.

The stairs were a pain in the ass (and thighs and calves) but they were great for physical conditioning, which is what she told anyone that asked, and they were _open_. More than one way out and she felt less trapped. She wasn’t _phobic_ about the damn lift, she could get into one when she needed to…she just made it her business not to need to more than once a day.

Amanda swung out into the stairwell and froze when she found herself face to chest with one of the Secret Service. She reared back, slithering backwards through the door before it could swing shut behind her and back into the well-lit corridor beyond.

Her heart was pounding in her chest, her face ashen and her palms sweaty. Her jaw clenched so hard something clicked in the joint and she muscled down the very real urge to run when the door was pulled fully open again.

“ _Idiot_.”

An Andorian female filled the doorway, speaking over her shoulder to the guard that had so badly startled Amanda.

“Leave us.”

There was a murmur of dissent from the guard but the Andorian, a general judging by the glass pendants of conquest decorating her military leathers that she wore under a -Vulcan?- robe, spoke in a deceptively soft tone that brooked no argument.

“ _Now_.”

The Andorian turned back to Amanda only when she was obeyed and stepped fully out into the corridor. Letting Amanda see her in the cold light of day streaming in through the many glass windows around them. She held her hands open at her sides, showing they were empty, but that was hardly the promise of peace that it could be, coming from an Andorian as it was.

The female had skin of a pale teal colour, more turquoise than was typical of most Andorians. Her features were sculpted and aristocratic, her eyes a deep gold in colour and her silver hair braided back from her temples and antennae in an elaborate knotting of microbraids. Further glass beads of military victories adorned her hair and she stood level with Amanda in height even if her lithe frame was evidently laddered with muscle beneath her leathers.

Amanda had spent quite a bit of time on Andoria and knew that their apparent delicacy and petite frame belied a core of solid duranium. Andorians might be physically weaker than humans, smaller in stature and frame in most instances, but they were damn fast and twice as vicious. If this general took it into her head to be aggressive, Amanda didn’t know if things would shake out in her favour.

“I am the Lady Rafina, Ambassador to Andoria, you are Amanda Grayson.” Lady Rafina hesitated a mere moment and then extended a hand to Amanda in greeting.

Amanda licked her lips, a nervous habit and inhaled a fortifying breath. She took the Ambassador’s hand and shook once.

Rafina’s hands were as deceptively delicate as the rest of her. Her grip was _strong_ and she jolted Amanda clean to the shoulder when she shook. Calluses from handling weapons adorned her slim fingers and Amanda made a mental note to double check for the signs of the woman carrying concealed.

“Pleasure.” Amanda managed after a moment.

“Perhaps.” Rafina folded her arms over her chest with a flourish, her robe billowing about her and her eyes narrowed a fraction. “Walk with me.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Amanda cocked an eyebrow, it had not been a request but she fell into step with the Ambassador anyway. “How can I help you, Ambassador?”

“Rafina, please.” Rafina waved the formalities away. “This is not a problem for you? Being seen with me?”

“I’d rather be seen.” Amanda lifted a negligent shoulder and kicked her chin up at another couple of hacks as they passed her in the corridor. She had drawn more than a few glances but her fellows still weren’t sure what to do with her.

She was a reporter, one that seemed to have no interest in their particular branch of reporting and therefore was more behind the scenes than headline news but she was also… _affiliated_ with the Vulcan Ambassador. Cohabiting with him if rumours were to be believed.

Which wasn’t really _news_ , according to Amanda, a view not necessarily shared by her peers.

Especially when the Lady Rafina, Ambassador to Andoria and lover to Ambassador-at-Large Solkar of Vulcan -Sarek’s own grandfather and the Vulcan to make first contact with humanity- was in step with Amanda. A meeting of potential in-laws? Who knew?

Not Amanda.

“Understandable. You are wary. Cautious. This is good.” Lady Rafina’s accent was interesting in her clipped Standard but she stared down anyone that seemed to be taking too much of an interest for her liking. “One of the reasons I came to you today.”

“Oh?” Amanda dropped her hands into her pockets and decided she was just going to have to let Rafina wander to her point when she got to it. The elder woman did not appear to be in the mood to be rushed. 

“Sarek speaks highly of you and -then so it follows- Solkar does also. They have ever been the other’s favourite.” Lady Rafina glanced sideways at Amanda but the human’s poker face was better than most and she gave nothing away. “However, they are both very…peaceful men. Trusting. There is a saying on Vulcan, pre-Reformation, ‘the sehlat smiles whilst she feasts’.”

Amanda stopped walking, a frown gracing her features.

“Neither of us are smiling, Ambassador.”

“This is true.” Rafina turned in the corridor so she stood facing Amanda. Uncaring of the people forced to walk around them both. “Nor are we the only predators upon the plane, hmm? Nor do we blend in with the rest. There is a certain…infamy that comes on the heels of Vulcan Ambassadors, after all. An infamy that may draw all manner of attention.”

Amanda frowned more deeply, realising that she was perhaps not being warned off as much as…invited to help? She fell into step with Rafina again, awaiting the General joining her in their slow amble along the corridor once more.

“I have developed an interest in you, Amanda Grayson. You seem to be as singular as Sarek thinks you are. Cunning, brave, fierce. _Competent_.”

“Thank you?” Amanda’s brows rose at the apparent compliments.

“Such skills come with the cost of -hmm- ascension through the ranks, no?”

“Not so much in my experience.” Amanda waved negligently around the Headquarters building and Rafina smiled suddenly, baring all of her many teeth.

“Why be so terribly orthodox? If there came an opportunity for the pursuit of something _real_ would you follow it?”

“Why change the habit of a lifetime?” Amanda hesitated a moment when they arrived at a lift door and they parted seemingly at Lady Rafina’s presence…as they had begun to do for Amanda.

Amanda wondered again at how much her security level had changed since returning with Sarek from their kidnapping.

She put it from her mind.

Rafina watched her expectantly. Waiting for Amanda to decide how much she wanted this conversation to continue.

Well, she had always been a sucker for her own curiosity.

She stepped into the lift, Lady Rafina joining her with a pleased smile.

As soon as the elevator doors closed, hemming them in, Rafina turned to her. Suddenly serious.

“If the President wins re-election, it will cost them the moon.”

Amanda stiffened, looking sharply at Rafina and found the Andorian watching her intently. Something like a smirk pulled at dark teal lips and Rafina continued.

“Not the first time you have heard this…but perhaps you have not viewed it in the light it was intended, hmm?”

“And what light would that be, Ambassador?”

“By the light of the moon, of course.” Rafina lifted her chin, satisfied that she had Amanda’s attention. Her gold eyes dropped down Amanda and clambered back up. “You are well formed, you could well be one of those humans that broadcasts, no?”

“With some polish… _sure?_.” Amanda had little idea where this was going.

“My nephew is a technician of some proficiency. He would light you well, should you decide to take me up on the offer.”

“And what offer would that be?”

“That of a stellar, hmm, cameraman, of course.” Rafina shrugged a shoulder in exaggerated innocence. “He is very _competent_ and would accompany you wherever the news took you. To document what you found. Whatever that may be.”

“I see…and what would I do with this information once I had it so tidily documented?”

“Broadcast it, of course.” Rafina looked up as the doors to the lift opened to the lobby of the Headquarters building, her Secret Service detail waiting there for her already. “The names, for your consideration.”

Lady Rafina produced a small scrap of paper, parchment really, and handed it to Amanda who took it with fingers as bemused as the rest of her.

“Names?”

“Forgive my Standard, I am still learning.” Rafina smiled, lying through her damn teeth.

“Right.” Amanda agreed. What the hell else was she supposed to do?

“Oh,” Lady Rafina turned back from joining her security detail, “I wished to say also; welcome to the family.”

Amanda wasn’t given the chance to respond before Rafina spun away with a flourish of her robes and was promptly enveloped by her Secret Service crew.

Amanda blew out a breath as the lift doors closed, leaving her closed in once more. She ignored that in favour of pulling the recorder from her pocket and switching it off. She stared down at it, weighing the small device in her hand. She did hope she had managed to get most of that caught on record.

She had the feeling there had been far more layers to that conversation than even she had picked up the first go round.

Well.

Looked like her afternoon was suddenly full.

**_Later, the Beach…_ **

“Mamanda! Mamanda, throw!”

Sybok ran back to Amanda over the damp sand as fast as his little legs could carry him, Tank bounding at his side.

The tiny Vulcan and the huge dog had bonded better than anyone had imagined they might do and were all but inseparable.

Amanda hadn’t been surprised on Tank’s behalf. Her dog was a delight and he was well used to children, not minding them so long as they didn’t pull his fur or ears. Amanda had harboured concerns for Sybok being frightened, since Vulcans weren’t socialised with animals the same way human children were, but she needn’t have bothered.

Amanda thought that Sybok was touch starved, his aunt not having tolerated such things and his father having been absent since the death of his mother. Sybok had already had it drummed into him that touching skin to skin was wrong and would hold onto Amanda’s sleeve or her trouser pocket but balked at taking her hand. He felt no such reticence when it came to Tank though. Dogs weren’t covered in Vulcan codes of conduct through the simple means of them being entirely alien.

So Tank and Sybok were often found lumped together in one way or another. Amanda had managed to wrangle an agreement with the local daycare that looked after Sybok whilst she was at work again. Since Tank was technically a therapy dog (Amanda’s therapy dog) he was allowed to attend alongside his person. Amanda had happily bequeathed Tank to Sybok as his need was greater than hers and now they went everywhere together.

Their favourite destination, aside from daycare, being the beach.

“Throw what, _misiu_?” Amanda pretended ignorance when Sybok slithered to a halt in front of her.

“Throw the ball!” Sybok bounced up and down, hands in the air and Tank dropped the drool sodden ball at her feet.

“Please?” Amanda reminded Sybok and he nodded hurriedly.

“ _Tak_. Yes. Please!” Sybok bounced again and Amanda stooped, scooping up the ball and winding back.

She let fly and the ball soared through the air, out over the surf and splashed into the waves.

Tank took off at a sprint, great bounding leaps taking him right into the water until he crashed through the frothing surf. Doggy paddling out to the ball without missing a beat.

Sybok trailed after him, his smaller legs keeping his pace shorter, red wellingtons beneath child size Vulcan robes flapping, but he never went so far as to wade further than ankle deep into the water. It was very cold to his sensibilities and he didn’t know how to swim.

Sarek had explained that Vulcans made less than stellar swimmers which made perfect sense to her. Their greater strength was the result of a higher density than humans and as such meant they weren’t exactly prone to floating in the same way that humans were. If either Sybok or Sarek were to swim, it would be constant work for them.

Amanda smiled when Tank waded back to shore, shaking himself vigorously to rid himself of excess water and causing Sybok to shriek as he was dowsed. The little boy retaliated by kicking spray at Tank and Tank immediately romped into a game of rear and splash that was soon to have everyone soaked.

Sure enough, it was less than ten minutes before Sybok trotted back towards Amanda, his robes sopping and his lips tinged turquoise with the cold.

Amanda raised an eyebrow at him and he grinned at her shyly. She had told him that he got cold when he was wet and he knew it well but he did it anyway.

“Little rebel.” Amanda shrugged her coat from her shoulders, bundling Sybok into it and taking him by one of the sleeves to start leading him home.

“Tank did it.” Sybok insisted.

“You started it, _misiu_.” Amanda reminded him and he just grinned again.

Amanda smiled back. It did her good to see him like this. _Happy_.

He had only been on Earth, staying with Amanda, for the last three weeks or so, but he had already come out of his shell in so many ways. Contact with Tank had helped immensely. Daycare even more so and apparently he was even beginning to make progress with the child therapist that Kat Cornwell had recommended to Amanda and Sarek.

That had taken Amanda by surprise when it really shouldn’t have.

Glancing up the beach even now, Amanda could see lurkers of the Secret Service variety dotted about the place. They always kept a respectable distance but human security stuck out less than a Vulcan crew would have and Amanda hardly expected that Sarek would leave his son unprotected.

That Starfleet would be involved in such a protection detail as much as the Vulcan consulate would only be…logical as far as Sarek was concerned.

“Papa’s coming?” Sybok either echoed Amanda’s thoughts or picked up on them somehow.

Amanda had the sneaking suspicion that Sybok’s telepathy was not limited to the tactile as his father’s was but she had yet to voice this to Sarek. He had enough to contend with right now as it was.

“I think so, sweetie. He said he’d try and make dinner this time.” Amanda summoned a smile for Sybok and refused to dwell on how Sarek had… _changed_ upon returning to Earth.

Well.

Perhaps _changed_ was too strong a term. It wasn’t like she really knew him after all.

They had spent a few days together in less than ideal circumstances and had grown very close as a result. She had seen him in his most reactive and adrenaline fuelled state. When the Gorn had taken them, neither of them had known if they were going to survive between one hour and the next. Amanda doubted that she had been acting entirely herself for the duration either.

Though that did not change the fact that Sarek was distant. Not just mentally, either. Physically too.

He still spent much of his time at the Vulcan embassy or working amongst various Federation buildings. He visited Amanda’s home often though she had little idea if that was because he genuinely wanted to see them or if it was because he felt duty bound to at least give the appearance of checking in with his son whom he had left with someone little better than a stranger to him.

Sarek trusted Amanda, she knew that. Trusted her to care for his son and to keep him safe from the reach of T’Vaal, Sarek’s sister-in-law that had made various noises about taking Sybok back.

Which she would be fully within her rights to do, had the boy been staying on Vulcan land, like the Vulcan Embassy.

Yes, Sarek trusted her to do what was right for Sybok. He seemed content that he was well cared for in her hands…he just didn’t seem to want to spend much actual _time_ with them.

When he visited, and it was most days, he was…hesitant. He kept his distance from Amanda. Touching her only rarely, his mind touching hers only briefly and nowhere near with the depth and intimacy they had shared when they had forged the bond.

Amanda had been on the wrong foot since he had withdrawn from her. She had been ill prepared for the seriousness of their relationship, perhaps, but she had been all in. It wouldn’t be the first time she had done something without being entirely sure that she was ready for it. Nor would it be the last, she was chaotic that way, but it still unnerved her.

The notion that he was…regretful.

Of course, the sensible thing to do would be to talk to Sarek about the whole thing but that had been surprisingly difficult for her. Every time she opened her mouth to broach the subject she was seized by a crippling doubt.

Sarek _mattered_ to her in a way that previous lovers hadn’t and they _weren’t even_ lovers.

Amanda was constantly aware that she may be demanding more than Sarek had been willing to give and -somehow- that had meant that a few heated kisses before they had even made it back to Earth had been as physical as it had gotten between them.

Human kisses that was.

He still brushed his hands against hers in greeting and that was his version of a kiss hello or goodbye but…it wasn’t _enough_ for her.

“No. Papa’s coming!” Sybok lifted his little arm, the length of her sleeve flapping over his hand and obscuring his pointed finger.

Amanda followed his gaze and blinked when confronted with Sarek himself striding across the beach towards them.

Amanda sucked in a breath in what she told herself was surprise but was a physiological response of a different kind she just didn’t want to admit it.

Sarek was an imposing figure after all.

He stood head and shoulders taller than her, his powerful frame wrapped in layer over layer of dark sweeping robes that billowed and snapped in the wind gusting in off the Pacific. His dark hair feathered against the harsh lines of his cheekbones and upswept brows, his apparently blank expression was remote. The green flush of chill on his cheeks made him look otherworldly and as inhuman as he truly was but, even with her doubt, Amanda recognised the warmth in his dark eyes when he moved close enough to greet them.

“Amanda. Sybok.” He rumbled and exhaled forcibly when Tank bounded towards him, spattering his robes with damp sand. “And Tank.”

Tank barked happily behind the ball in his mouth and Sybok giggled, launching himself from Amanda’s grip and into his father’s hold.

“Papa!” Sybok crowed in delight when his father scooped him up and dropped him into the crook of one elbow. “We missed you!”

“I am gratified to be in your presence also, my son.” Sarek’s eyes smiled even if his mouth didn’t and he turned to see Amanda next.

“Dog drool.” Amanda spread her hands to show they were unclean and Sarek’s expression flickered but he didn’t reach for her.

He did send a loaded glance Tank’s way but the dog was happily oblivious and squeaked the ball between his jaws rather than acknowledge it.

“You came for dinner.” Amanda noted, attempting neutrality. She was uncertain all over again because Sarek hadn’t simply kissed her in the human manner.

“Indeed, I have _sourced_ our evening meal. We are having sushi.” Sarek told her and then hesitated a moment. “You expressed a desire for same last week.”

“Uh, yeah.” Amanda shoved her hands into her pockets and fell into step with him, winding back from the beach, through the dunes and towards her street.

“My business this afternoon took me to Okinawa. There was time to go in search of local delicacies.”

Amanda cocked her head at him. That seemed…illogical for him.

“It was impressed upon me by Ruth that it is an Earth custom to bring gifts when one returns from a trip away.”

“Oh.” Amanda smirked.

Amanda _loved_ Ruth.

The older woman was Sarek’s latest aide, a veteran of the Federation diplomatic corps and seemed immune to any sort of intimidation factor that Sarek may have been able to lay claim to. It would be much fairer to say that Ruth managed Sarek rather than the other way around. Sarek, of course, didn’t understand why he seemed to run through aides at roughly one every month or so but Amanda was quite sure that Ruth was long going to outlast Sarek rather than the other way around.

“You enjoy Ruth’s treatment of me.” Sarek seemed to guess.

“Ruth treats you with all the respect your station deserves.” Amanda reminded him. “Just because you can’t cow her by arching a single perfect eyebrow does not mean that she’s bad at her job. Or disrespectful.”

“Hmm.” Sarek nodded his head to one side, half agreeing with that seemingly. He dismissed the topic rather than get into an argument. “How was your day?”

“Oh, you know, mind numbingly boring for the most part.” Amanda shrugged. She didn’t much like to talk about her work.

For as long as her therapist didn’t sign off on her, she was restricted to the Press Corps circuit. It was mind numbing but safe as far as her editor, Perry, was concerned.

Even though she had managed to get _kidnapped_ whilst in the Federation Headquarters. Which had led to more therapy and more staying in the HQ, the site of her kidnapping.

It made very little sense to Amanda but she had also been under the impression that no one else would take her. If she didn’t go to HQ and the tame press briefings therein, then she was to stay home and twiddle her thumbs.

Which really would drive her mad.

“And the lesser part?”

“Hmm?” Amanda glanced up at Sarek, shifting Sybok from one arm to the other.

“It was lacking in mental stimulation for the majority. What gained your attention for the lesser portion of the day?”

“Oh.” Amanda blinked, realising suddenly that she didn’t know how he would take to the news of his…step-grandmother (was that even what she was?) visiting. Let alone the content of their conversation that Amanda still hadn’t managed to figure out.

“Uh, the Andorian Ambassador came to visit me.”

“The Andorian- -?” Sarek slowed to a halt, looking down at her before spurring himself to move again. He spoke with a careful neutrality, even for him. “And how is Lady Rafina?”

“Confusing.” Amanda admitted freely. “I didn’t really understand what she was trying to tell me, I think.”

“That is in character for her.” Sarek sounded less than impressed. “What did you speak of?”

“Oh, work stuff. The president’s re-election campaign.” Amanda trailed off, deciding to edit out the perhaps job offer that she’d had from the Andorian general. “The trials of dating Vulcan men. That sort of thing. She -ah- welcomed me to the family.”

“Is it?”

“Is it what?” Amanda caught the barest flicker of something through their bond but Sarek swept it away into his own private mental space before she could catch it.

“Is it a trial?”

“I’ve not been doing it for long. I’ll let you know.” Amanda smirked, making light of it but Sarek just looked at her and she couldn’t read him _at all_.

She felt the nip of familiar frustration nibble at the edge of her mood but swept it aside when Sybok turned to speak to Sarek.

“Mamanda is family?”

Sarek glanced at Amanda but she left him to it. She _may_ have been feeling petty.

“According to human customs, I believe so.” Sarek spoke smoothly and Amanda snorted.

Well, were they married or weren’t they?

“Mamanda? Are you family?”

“To you, teddybear?” Amanda grinned for him. “Always.”

She ignored Sarek’s look at whatever she had said that he found wanting and turned to head inside the house instead.

She did wish he’d make up his mind about her.

It was the not knowing that was the worst part.

**_Later…_ **

_If the President is re-elected, it will cost them the moon._

Amanda sat at the small table under the window that she did most of her work at when at home. Her earpiece was perched in the shell of one ear, her finger keeping it snugly in place. The words of her conversation with Rafina from earlier in the day washed over her again and again as she listened to the recording on repeat until she knew it by rote.

She shut it off, gaze wandering to the middle distance and stared out the window unseeing.

Night had fallen and the view was the reason she had bought this overlarge house in the first place.

She’d had notions of inviting family to stay, of course. They stayed here when they were in town but she’d been off planet so long that she usually had just commed them the security code and told them to mind the dog walker. As it was, the house was far too big for she and Tank alone…though it felt less lonesome when Sarek and Sybok were here.

Sybok had his own room. It had a little nightlight and all the new things Sarek had sourced for him since T’Vaal had let him leave Vulcan with nothing save the clothes on his back. There was even enough room for Sarek to meditate in another bedroom since he didn’t sleep alongside Amanda if he did stay the night.

Still.

At least the view _was_ spectacular.

Even in the dark the silvery grasses of the dunes under the moonlight waved in the breeze. She could make out the rush of the surf and see the glimmer of the moon on the water.

Which invariably led her gaze up and up and…to the moon.

_Cost them the moon_.

Amanda narrowed her eyes a little, worrying that over and over in her head. Turning the words this way and that, trying to make sense of them. They were a burr under her thoughts. _Something_ niggling at her about them.

She had heard the phrase or seen it written down. Even before that dumbass of a source had let it slip to her. It was familiar to her in a way that she could not grasp and it was driving her more than a little nutty.

She considered again, Rafina’s offer.

Meet with her ‘nephew’ and go investigating. Do her actual job and start overturning rocks until she got to the bottom of it. Partner up with a man she knew nothing about in order to do so.

It wouldn’t be the first time.

Amanda had spent most of her adult life with a go-bag at the ready and her dog sitter on speed dial, ready to hare off after the next scent of intrigue that came her way but… _but_ the last incident of same had cost her too much.

Hell, depending on which doctor you asked, she wasn’t even _human_ anymore due to extra-dimensional shenanigans, space dinosaurs and their hellacious version of medical care.

The last trip she had gone on had been entirely involuntary, revealed an alien presence hiding in her subconscious and had ended with her bonded/married to the Vulcan Ambassador to Earth. Something that he himself may or may not be regretting right this very second and was just too -what- polite to say anything?

Amanda gusted a sigh, rubbing harshly at her forehead and stared at the names on the parchment paper in front of her.

So strange. Writing with pen on paper in this day and age. Amanda had little doubt that Rafina had her reasons but they were certainly beyond a mere reporter such as herself.

Amanda hoisted her padd open and swiped the laser projected keyboard onto the desk. She opened the search engine and plugged in the first name.

Samuel Archer.

Amanda’s brows rose at what she found.

Samuel -Sam- Archer was great grandson to Admiral Archer himself. Captain of the first _Enterprise_. He came from a long line of Fleeters, all the way back to before the founding of the Federation and as such had grown up all over the quadrant. He was someone who was famous for being famous, really. He was known for his travel writing, shuttle flying and being easy on the eyes apparently.

Amanda glanced over his face, the resemblance between him and his great grandfather was plain. Same distinctive brows and strong jawline. His skin darker than Caucasoid but Amanda couldn’t have placed the ethnicity. His hair was a shock of dark and his eyes pale green but they seemed ready to smile alongside the flash of his white teeth.

Amanda opened one of his vid-blogs and watched a few moments to hear him, see his mannerisms. You could tell a lot about someone that way.

He was effusive, in that careless and unconscious way that truly attractive people can be and spoke with his whole body. His smile was near constant, his eyes danced and enthusiasm coloured his every word. He’d make a terrible liar.

Amanda snorted in amusement, if this was supposed to be some cloak and dagger bullshit at the behest of the Andorian Ambassador then Rafina could have done better than to pick her apparent nephew.

Amanda swiped the window away and typed in the next name on the piece of paper. Rafina had never determined which name had belonged to her ‘nephew’ after all. 

Maja Hansen was the next name on Amanda’s list and Amanda blinked when confronted with the image along with the headlines that accompanied the search.

A blonde woman with pale grey eyes smirked out of the screen at Amanda and she hit on the bio available to the public before she decided to do any further digging.

Maja was a Swedish lawyer that specialised in… _interstellar law_.

Amanda bit her lip. Was this to do with Rafina’s motives or Amanda’s own?

She had spent the majority of her time at work searching for a lawyer to represent Sarek and Sybok after all. Amanda had dismissed the notion of hiring a Vulcan lawyer and arguing this on T’Vaal’s home turf. T’Vaal had too much sway considering she ran the lunar colony of R’Moth and as such Amanda had decided that fighting at all fair would be moronic.

Sarek could use his diplomatic immunity in order to keep Sybok with him for now but if T’Vaal had the clout that Amanda suspected she did, then that diplomatic immunity, indeed, Sarek’s whole posting on Earth could be made to evaporate and his immunity along with it.

So, Sarek’s claim to his own son must be incontestable and Amanda had taken it upon herself to make sure that he had the tools required to make that happen. She might not know everything about Sarek, but she knew that he was far too honourable and _kind_ to fight in a manner that might guarantee his success. She also knew that Sybok was far too important to Sarek for him to lose.

As far as Amanda was concerned, that meant she had to hire the most ruthless shark of a lawyer she could find and encourage them to nail T’Vaal to the wall.

Amanda would decide later if she meant metaphorically or not.

Amanda dug a little deeper into Maja’s profile and was fairly certain, after the third article involving new laws being written due to one of Maja’s cases, that she may very well have happened upon a Valkyrie living in disguise amongst mere mortals. If nothing else, Miss Hansen was certainly worth a comm, even if Amanda suspected her private hire rates would be literally astronomical.

A quick calculation on the time difference between local time and Swedish time discouraged Amanda from calling then and there. She settled for typing out a quick email and sending that instead, asking to be contacted as soon as possible about Sarek’s case.

She didn’t mention any names, but if Maja Hansen was half as smart as her reputation suggested, then she’d have it all figured out before she even called Amanda back.

“Tea?”

“Jeez- -!” Amanda startled badly when a steaming mug appeared in her peripheral and was promptly moved quickly out of the way of her flail.

“Apologies, I had thought you heard my approach.” Sarek stood over a metre away now, twin mugs of tea in his hands.

Amanda settled herself with a will. Forcing her breathing to regulate before her pounding heart would follow suit.

“It’s fine. I was…working. I didn’t hear you.” Amanda shook herself and swiped at her padd, closing the apps for the night. She needed to get out of her head for a bit. “What did you want?”

“To offer you tea.” Sarek held up a mug in demonstration and Amanda blinked, staring at him for a moment, uncomprehending.

She shook herself and forced her brain to cooperate. She pulled her earpiece from her ear and dropped it on top of her padd. She held out her hands for the mug.

“You do not have to accept.”

“I know, but I’d like to.” Amanda summoned something smile shaped to her face and took the cup from him, cradling it in her hands. She inhaled the honey sweetened smell and took a cautious sip.

It was steaming hot, Sarek’s tolerance for temperatures ran higher than hers did, but he had added enough cold water for it not to burn her. She smiled at him more genuinely at the thoughtfulness and looked about the living room.

“Sybok’s in bed?”

“Indeed. He has been bathed, storied and is now asleep.” Sarek waited for a moment and then angled himself towards the living area. “Shall we sit together?”

“Sure.” Amanda shook off the last of her distraction and moved to the couch, tucking herself into the corner of it and resigning herself when Sarek took the opposite end rather than sit any closer to her.

“You seem out of sorts.” Sarek looked at her pointedly, clearly concerned.

The last time she had been out of sorts with him, she had been lying through her teeth and had thought she might turn into some sort of lizard mutant so she supposed she might deserve that.

“I’m fine, I was just in my head.” Amanda waved it away, drinking her tea.

“What keeps you so distracted?”

“Your…uh, well, Lady Rafina gave me a name today. I was looking it up. Maja Hansen. She’s a lawyer. Specialises in interstellar cases. Disputes between legal systems of differing planets.”

Sarek cocked his head.

“I’ve sent a message to her, I want her to take on your case. You and Sybok.”

Sarek stilled a moment in lifting his tea to drink himself and then continued the motion with deliberation.

“I do not know if that will be necessary.”

“I do.” Amanda lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “Your sister-in-law has too much sway on Vulcan. You can’t trust that any court would rule in an unbiased way.”

“That is the _point_ of Vulcan courts. To be unbiased.” Sarek pointed out.

“Uh-huh and if you had really believed that, you’d have left Sybok in T’Vaal’s care and sought legal action to bring him home rather than beating her about the face with your diplomatic immunity.” Amanda drawled.

“It was not so violent as your word choice suggests.” Sarek demurred. “As an aside, Earth is not home.”

“What?” Amanda frowned.

“You said that I would have sought legal action to bring Sybok ‘home’. Earth is not home to Sybok nor myself.”

Amanda stilled at that. She blinked, attempting to talk herself out of flinching away from his words but…he meant them. He was Vulcan. Of course he meant them.

“I see.” Amanda sat forward, setting her cup on the table before her shaking hands spilled it. She clasped her fingers together in her lap and inhaled deeply.

Her lungs felt too tight in her chest. Something hot burned deep in her stomach and prickled freezing cold over her skin. Her senses crawled with whatever it was and she shook it off with a jerk of her head.

“I don’t know if I can do this.” The words fell out of her.

Sarek sat forward, setting his own cup aside.

“Do what?”

“ _This_.” Amanda waved between them. “Cohabiting but not. In a relationship but not. Married but…not? I don’t know what this is and I don’t think you do either.”

Sarek’s head ticked to the side and he considered her words a moment. Whatever he felt, he was keeping it to his side of the bond and she didn’t know what to do with that either.

“A relationship between a Vulcan and a human is bound to be…uncharted. I think it would be natural to be hesitant to define it in any way.”

“I _had_ a definition.” Amanda said quietly, speaking to her hands mostly. “I was falling in love with you and I thought you felt…similarly. Was I wrong?”

Sarek stared at her for a moment, clearly she’d sprung this on him and that somehow stung more than it really should have.

“I…” His words died and he hesitated. His expression flickered with something she couldn’t read and then, when he did finally speak, his voice was monotone once more. Reaching for her. “Amanda…”

“Okay!” Amanda bolted to her feet pacing around the coffee table and shoving her hands through her hair. “Okay.”

“You do not seem ‘okay’ by any definition of the term.” Sarek rose to his feet, looking at her like she was something explosive that was ticking down to detonation.

“It’s fine.” Amanda swallowed hard, waving it away. “Don’t worry about it. I never wanted it to be one sided anyway. So, uhm, yeah.”

“I don’t understand.” Sarek shook his head.

“You’re going to have to pick up Sybok from daycare tomorrow. I’m going to be off-world.”

“Oh?” Sarek shifted uncertainly at that. “Might I enquire…?”

“Should just be for a couple of days. Re-election stuff. I should be back by Friday and I can look after him again then. He’s welcome to stay until…well, however long he needs.”

“Amanda, if I could- -?” Sarek rounded the coffee table, his hands reaching hesitantly for hers.

No.

_No_.

Amanda stepped swiftly backwards. If he touched her then she was going to _cry_ or something equally as wet and then he’d be much more uncomfortable than he already was.

“I, uh, have to get ready.” Amanda waved vaguely and then beat a hasty retreat. “Tell Sybok goodbye from me.”

“Goodbye, Amanda.” His voice was soft and Amanda tensed, her back to him. She couldn’t even turn around.

“Goodbye, Sarek.”


	2. The Moon and Back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Amanda makes new friends and walks willfully into mad situations. 
> 
> On brand for her.

**_The Moon and Back_ **

**_0445 Shuttle to Lunar Colony 5…_ **

Amanda was hunched low in her seat and well on the way to self-loathing before the sun was even up back home.

She was a coward.

Reduced to sneaking out of her own house at three thirty in the morning so she didn’t have to see Sarek.

She knew his habits well enough. Knew he’d be in the deepest state of his meditation at that point, almost unreachable to her through the bond that was _still open_ on his end. She hadn’t dared let her mind touch it since their…discussion last night.

The worst thing was that she couldn’t even be mad at him. He was what he was. Hardly his fault that he didn’t feel the same about her as she did him. He’d been raised to lock it away and sit on it. He’d _never_ show it. She had accepted that. At least, she hoped she had.

But that he couldn’t even _tell her?_

That had stung. That had been too far. She hadn’t realised how much she’d needed to hear it until he’d been unable to say it and by that point she’d been headlong into a spiral of…human mess. Reactive and frightened and hellbent on doing what she always did; jump on the first shuttle leaving orbit and burying herself in work.

Amanda blew out a breath and stared out the viewport on her left. She watched the stars wheel by. The flight wasn’t even an hour at low warp like these shuttles had. Most of it was spent dodging other orbital traffic coming and going around Earth and its surrounding space stations. Once they actually got underway, the hop to the moon was bare minutes. Then more faff on the other end attempting to find a space to dock.

The shuttle pitched beneath her, banking, and her companion jerked awake once more.

“I’m up!” Sam Archer blinked blearily, looking about himself and he frowned when he saw Amanda sitting next to him.

“Welcome back.” She drawled to him.

“Damn, you look even worse than before.”

“Thanks.” Amanda clipped.

“Sure you don’t wanna talk about it?” Sam scrubbed a hand over his face, attempting to wake himself properly. Apparently he wasn’t used to early mornings.

Or, really, moving before noon.

“I told you, I’m fine.”

“Sure and I’m Santa Claus.” Sam winked at her and leaned forward to rummage in his duffle.

He seemed prepped at least. He had turned up at the shuttleport with her bare minimum warning, making the time to appear before she left without him. Which Amanda had been fully prepared to do. He’d had a go-bag much similar to the one Amanda carried. Compact duffle, couple changes of clothes, all documentation they might need, spares and his recording equipment. He was also armed with the easiest smile Amanda had ever seen and more charm than he knew what to do with.

He seemed to flirt as easily as he breathed. There had been a brief moment when Amanda had considered shoving him into an impulse engine as it powered up before he had realised she wasn’t the right audience and then he’d locked it down.

Well, at least he wasn’t totally oblivious.

“Coffee?” Sam popped up again, that perma-grin back on his face and Amanda smirked despite herself.

“Sure.” She accepted the sealed can of coffee he gave her, popping the top and twisting the base of the can to warm the beverage before she drank.

She winced when Sam just popped the top of his and drank the whole thing cold. Crumpling the can, stuffing it in the recycler and then rummaging for another.

“You okay there, sport?” Amanda sipped her warm coffee.

Not bad, considering it was canned.

“Fine. Just require several more grams of coffee than most humans in order to be legally classed as awake in the A.M.” Sam settled with his next canned coffee and lounged back in his chair. He winked at the steward that passed him down the aisle.

The steward literally stumbled into a chair craning their neck to maintain eye contact with Sam and then flushed prettily before slinking away in embarrassment.

Amanda blinked, studying Sam again.

He _was_ handsome. Brown skin, lantern jaw, sparkling pale green eyes, thousand watt smile and built as if he’d been sculpted by some lesser gods. He wore tailored clothes that fit him beautifully and gave off a powerful aura that seemed to put everyone at ease.

“Huh.” Amanda realised suddenly.

“What?” Sam looked at her with raised brows, sipping his coffee.

“Which grandparent is Orion?”

Sam nearly choked on his coffee, wincing and thumping his fist against his chest when it appeared to go down the wrong tube in a square lump.

Amanda waited patiently through his coughing fit that summoned a different steward and watched benignly as he flirted with them while they gave him _napkins_ for god’s sake.

Sam took a moment to compose himself and then turned to Amanda. He smiled at her suddenly, powerfully, and spoke firmly.

“I don’t want to talk about this.”

“Adorable.” Amanda shrugged. “But seriously. Paternal or maternal side?”

Sam blinked, obviously not having expected her to remain steadfastly unimpressed or remotely respectful of his boundaries. They didn’t know one another at all. If he was expecting her to remain a stranger whilst they were embedded to unearth who knew what kind of story together, he really _was_ young.

“Holy _shit_ , it’s true.” Sam spoke quietly, his smile dropping away as if it had never been. “You’re bonded to the Ambassador’s grandson.”

Amanda blinked, her brain taking a moment to connect which Ambassador Sam referred to and then she stiffened. Ambassador at Large Solkar. His grandson being Sarek.

“Yeah, two can play at that game, Grayson. How’d you know? You do a data dive on me?”

“No. It’s just…obvious.” Amanda shrugged. She waved at the passengers and stewards around them. “Everybody’s tripping over themselves to catch your eye. Nobody’s _that_ attractive.”

“Well, I happen to think that I’m just naturally charismatic and so do most people that work with me.” Sam glanced sideways at her. “ _And_ , if you must know, maternal grandmother.”

“One of the matriarchs? That’s got to be some interesting family reunions.”

“Yeah, being one eighth slave trader is a hoot.” Sam rolled his eyes.

“I thought human women were immune to Orion pheromones? Aside from the killer headache.” Amanda sipped more coffee.

“Not immune to _me_.” Same laid a hand on his chest. “Unless, of course, they’re Vulcan…or bonded to one.”

“So that’s why you’re Rafina’s pick? You’re the charm offensive?”

“Something like that.” Sam shrugged a shoulder. “It’s not just attraction. I can affect other moods. Diffuse tensions, calm people down, that sort of thing.”

“Implying that the situation we’re walking into isn’t as benign as your average Presidential electoral debate.”

“Well, _yeah_ , you’re a _war correspondent_. Did you think we were going to rate the local film festival or something?”

“Considering my track record with stories lately, it would be a welcome reprieve.” Amanda finished her coffee and Sam took the can from her to toss it in the recycler.

“Auntie Raffi doesn’t really do ‘reprieve’.” Sam scrunched his fingers in the air to denote the quote.

“So, what’s your range? How many people can you influence at once?”

“Depends. Depends on a lot of things; the air flow, how hydrated I am, the strength of what people are feeling. The more strongly they feel something the less predictable the outcome.”

“If someone was trying to kill us, do you think you could change their mind?”

Sam blinked at her. Several times.

“Jesus, Grayson, what the hell do you _do_ all day?” Sam shook himself, evidently unsettled. “If someone were ever trying to kill me I would _run away_.”

“Spoken like a man that’s never been shot before.” Amanda couldn’t help her lopsided smile. Great. She’d been sent on this half-brained mission with a _child_.

 _Run away_.

As if it had ever been that simple for her. 

“You’ve been shot?!” Sam nearly squeaked.

“Shot, stabbed, clawed, burned, shocked, drowned…you okay, champ? Looking a little green. No pun intended.” Amanda cocked her head. She hissed out a breath through her teeth. “ _Auntie Raffi_ told you none of this, did she?”

“I knew you’d been…in some situations but I had no idea that…are _you_ okay?” Sam turned to her, so _earnest_ , and Amanda winced.

“I’m fine. Relatively.” She was quiet a moment, watching Sam watch her. “You should get the next shuttle back. We don’t know what we’re heading into.”

“Hell no!” Sam looked offended. Indignant. He snorted in annoyance. “I’m not letting you go anywhere by yourself. If this is the kind of luck you have _without_ me to calm things down. ‘Go home’! Jeez.”

Amanda sat back in her seat, surprised. Evidently so.

“Why don’t _you_ go home?!” Sam snapped at her suddenly and Amanda raised her eyebrows.

“Why would I go home? This is my job.”

“Yeah, but it’s not just _you_ is it? Something happens to you and you’re not the only one that gets hurt. Your ambassador will feel it too. How did you get him to agree to let you come?”

“I don’t really ask permission.” Amanda admitted.

“Ouch.” Sam looked away from her. “What did he do to deserve that?”

Amanda narrowed her eyes a fraction at that, defensive despite herself.

“There are degrees of bond. Our isn’t that strong.”

Sam snorted in utter disdain.

“Yeah. Sure. Pull the other one, it’s got bells on.” Sam shook his head. “What garbage. Maybe someone else would buy that but my great uncle was bonded to a Vulcan. There aren’t _degrees_ and there’s nothing _weak_ about a lifebond. This partnership is only going to work if you don’t assume I’m a dumb kid that has no idea what’s going on.”

Amanda sat back in her chair.

Well. That was a whole lot to digest.

She opened her mouth to ask Sam to clarify but the overhead comm system chimed and the captain spoke from the flight deck.

Too late now.

They were on the final approach to the moon.

**_Later, Beneath the Surface…_ **

“Just stand still. Why can’t you stand still?” Sam ducked his head to look out from behind his handheld camera.

“I’m wearing five inch heels. You wanna come over here and pose for the camera whilst everything below the knee cramps?” Amanda waved at him with her microphone prop.

She hardly needed it, her sound pack was sewn into the collar of her shirt, but the viewers liked to see the microphone. Even if it was outdated.

“You’ll get used to it.” Sam settled his camera again.

“I still don’t see how these heels fit in with your incredible plan of ‘run away’ if we find ourselves in a situation that requires it.” Amanda grumbled, shoving her hair back over her shoulder and ignoring the way Sam tutted at her over it.

He was apparently her makeup artist as well and had spent the better part of the morning after their post arrival nap making her presentable for the camera. Now for the lighting tests. Sound checks. Colour cards. Signal checks…a whole bunch of things that Amanda had never had to bother with before because she _wrote_ for a living. Occasionally did some voice over.

She wasn’t used to all this… _performance_.

“Well, fits perfectly with my plan. I just have to run faster than you, don’t I?” Sam glanced up at her with a bob of his brows and a grin.

Amanda coughed something like a laugh, a smile stretching her face and he grinned at her in reward.

“ _There_ it is!” Sam looked into his side of the camera and adjusted something. “You got great camera quality, Grayson. How you never been in front of one before?”

“Broadcasting signals can be used to target missiles.” Amanda reminded him with a tight smile and he blew out a breath.

“Your life experiences are _not_ universal.” Sam muttered mostly to himself. He brightened suddenly. “Besides, you can totally run in those shoes with practice. That lady did it in the _Jurassic Park_ movie.”

Amanda blinked at him expansively.

“Oh, I’m a retro film nerd. It’s a flick from back before World War Three. It’s about a bunch of scientists that clone dinosaur monsters back to life and put them in a theme park.”

“Wouldn’t that…end horribly?” Amanda frowned.

“Welcome to the premise of no less than _nine_ blockbuster movies.” Sam grinned.

“Were they…comedies?”

“The third one, arguably. You should watch ‘em sometime. It’s a genre called ‘creature features’. The arrogant people always get eaten.”

“Hmmm.” Amanda’s eyes skated to the side as she remembered the last giant reptiles she’d met and the arrogance involved therein. “Yeah. No. That’s a hard pass.”

“Your loss.” Sam shrugged. “Okay, sound check. Go.”

“This is your host, Amanda Grayson, speaking to you from the lunar surface where we are engaged in a lively debate over the moral quandaries of cloning dinosaurs. Marvel of modern science of pyrrhic victory over the physical world? Join us after these insipid graphics to hear a one-sided debate dressed as impartiality.” Amanda grinned as wide as she could manage it and Sam threw back his head on a laugh.

“You were _made_ for the camera. Where they been hiding you?”

“The basement, mostly. Can I take these things off? They’re killing me.”

“Sure. Grab some flats. I think we’re ready to go story hunting.”

“Any suggestion where we start?” Amanda switched out her killer heels for a pair of boots that didn’t clash too horribly with her slacks and shirt.

Sam had dressed her too, picking a blue button down shirt with a dramatically wide collar that -admittedly- made her eyes _pop_ and some nicely tailored stone grey slacks. Her boots and battered canvas jacket, stained with salt in places, gave her an interesting ‘lost executive’ sort of aesthetic.

“There’s a big underground gambling scene up here. If something’s going on, one of those clubs would be a great place to start.”

“And if these clubs are underground, how are we to find them?” Amanda had her own ways and wiles, of course, but she wanted to see what the kid thought.

“I usually just ask nicely.” Sam shrugged on his own jacket, checking that his lapel camera was ready to roll and his own soundpack was a go.

Amanda heaved a sigh.

“If only life were that simple.”

“Watch and learn, Grayson.” Sam jerked his lapels and then held his arm out to her to take.

“Well, if nothing else, we’ll leave good looking corpses.” Amanda tucked her arm through his.

“From your lips to god’s ears, Grayson.”

**_The Underground…_ **

“You okay?” Sam twisted to look back at Amanda, trailing behind him down the twisting staircase hewn out of solid rock, leading deep beneath the surface colony they’d left behind them.

“I can’t believe that worked.” Amanda admitted after a moment. “You literally just asked. I didn’t even have to bribe anyone.”

“See, it’s all in the asking.” Sam grinned at her, bobbing his eyebrows and Amanda shook her head.

She couldn’t deny that Sam had evidently been picked for his skills if not his life experience. He had wound his way through the crowds in the Lunar Surface Colony, charming his way through several places that Amanda would have been jettisoned from for simply breathing wrong and finally led them down here.

To the _literal_ Underground.

People just…told Sam stuff.

Amanda knew it was the pheromones that he could control but it was nothing short of staggering to watch. No wonder most people tripped over themselves around him. He just asked in that sweet voice of his, flashed that smile, upped the ampage on his particular allure and then -bam- they were wherever he wanted to be. Usually getting the VIP treatment.

Amanda was beginning to think that her life might have turned out _very_ differently if she’d had Sam to smooth the way for her up until now.

His control was nothing short of amazing.

Amanda would have asked about it. How it had been growing up learning to control all that but he wasn’t out to the world at large and he had started recording some time back.

Probably when they had started down the stairs. That was when she had felt her sound-pack power on and he had shoved those stupid horn rim eyeglasses on. He’d use the turn of his head to focus the camera or something similar.

All this equipment, compact and discreet as it was, spoke of expense. Someone way above Amanda’s paygrade was funding this. She again thought that this was perhaps an idea that would make a dumb idea feel good about itself but she was in it now. She had _no idea_ what they were walking into. She’d come on the hint of intrigue from a woman that she was _sort of_ now related to? Kind of?

Amanda felt suddenly tired and far too old for this bullshit but by that point they had reached the bottom of the stairs and she could hear the thrum of bass music pounding beyond a bulkhead with an old fashioned duranium sealed door. The floor vibrated with the sound and two human heavies lounged outside the door. Presumably ready to bounce anyone out that shouldn’t be there.

Namely, people like Sam and Amanda.

“Hey, man!” Sam lifted his hand and clapped it into the first bouncer’s meaty paw, shaking enthusiastically. “We heard this is where it’s at. Xanth sent us.”

“Just you two?” The second bouncer, less impressed with Sam’s aura, spoke from his side of the door.

“Course not, brought friends, didn’t we?” Sam winked producing a fistful of latinum ingots from seemingly nowhere.

Amanda was surprised he had that much loot just _on him_ but her poker face was excellent. She just smiled and kicked her chin up in a neutral nod when the bouncer studied her.

“Fine. But the friends have to wait here.” One bouncer held out his hand, letting Sam drop the latinum into a palm that could have engulfed Amanda’s skull, and the other opened the door.

A _wall_ of sound rushed out at them but Amanda had been braced for it.

“Thanks, boys.” Amanda all but purred, slinging her arm around Sam’s neck, bussing his cheek with a sloppy kiss and hauling him in when he faltered at the sound -and smell- that greeted them.

“You always take me to the best places.” Amanda grumbled, releasing Sam as soon as the door shut behind them and took in her surroundings.

It was exactly what she had expected from an underground club. Low ceiling, scrubby industrial appearance, cavernous room, probably had been a generator vault at some point before being overhauled for the surface colony above. Flashing lights, booming sound system, lot of drunk and drugged people milling around. Some screaming, plenty of illegal substances on the go and was that? Yeah, a cage fight in the back.

That seemed to be where all the action was. Amanda jerked her head that way to Sam and tugged on his hand, pulling him to follow her.

Amanda was sandwiched next to Sam and not precisely because she wanted to keep him close. She was glad that the sound system on her collar was flush to her skin, it would rely on the vibrations through her bones in order to pick up her voice.

“Stay close to me and _don’t_ eat or drink anything. Someone bumps you real hard and you feel a sharp pain, _tell me_. You’re pretty enough to want.”

“I am well aware.” Sam nodded hurriedly and stuck close to her.

Amanda hoped they looked as she wanted them to seem. Older woman taking her boytoy out to the lowest spots to make them feel better about themselves. They were somewhere on the upper end of the demographic inside the ‘club’. It was staffed by the poorer people on the colony and patronized by the richer end of the spectrum. Humanity had come a long way since the founding of the Federation but space was big. The haves and have nots were still in the majority.

Even on Earth’s doorstep.

“What is that smell?” Sam leaned closer to her.

Amanda inhaled deeply, her nose wrinkling a little and she looked sideways at him.

“I’ll tell you later but don’t look at what we’re stepping in.”

Sam grimaced but did as he was told.

Amanda wound her way through the crowd. She wasn’t in a particular hurry but she used a shoulder or an elbow here or there to get her point across. She didn’t want Sam to use any of his pheromones in here. He had said that the more intense the emotion the more unpredictably someone might react. A lot of these people were feeling lots of things all at once and many of those feelings chemically induced by artificial means. She didn’t really want to find out what would happen if partial Orion pheromones were introduced into that kind of cocktail.

Her head was on a swivel and she was well practiced at not being too obvious. Sam at least had the excuse of being a sheltered twenty something and he gawked freely, recording everything he saw.

He noticed after she did.

“Uh…Amanda…?”

“I see them.” Amanda turned back, offering him a false smile. “Terra Prime banners. This is the place.”

Terra Prime. Shit. Fuck. Shit. Fuck again. Terra Prime.

“We’re going to do a circuit of the room, you’re going to get _real_ sick and then we’re getting out of here. Okay?”

“Okay.” Sam swallowed hard, suddenly realising how much danger they were in.

Fucking _Terra Prime_.

Lady Rafina had sent them into the belly of a freaking terrorist cell. One on the moon. Just the two of them. 

If Amanda made it out of this alive, the good Auntie Raffi was definitely off her Christmas card list. 

It seemed to take an age to make it to the back of the room. She wanted Sam to capture as many of these faces on camera as he could. If they were here they might as well make it worth their while. She did hope the signal was making it through the layers of rock above them and back to the harddrive set up in their rooms in the hotel.

At least that way, if they did end up mincemeat, there would be some evidence of what happened to them.

Amanda was so focussed on the crowd that she barely paid any mind to what was going on in the cage that dominated the last quarter of the room. She had been noting tattoos and distinguishing features in the people around her, not eyeballing the losing equation that was four fists plus two heads.

That changed when Sam’s hand found her wrist and squeezed hard enough to make the bones protest there.

Amanda twisted, following his gaze and froze when she saw the main event.

Not a cage match. Definitely not a cage match.

That was an Andorian in there and it was an execution.

Amanda surged forward, winding purposely through the crowd.

This could not be _real_.

That could not be an actual Andorian in there. That was a guy with some bad makeup and blue paint on him. Had to be. No way that they had honest to god kidnapped some poor unfortunate…

“Fuck.” Amanda breathed when they made it to where the crowd was at its densest.

The crush of bodies was immense. They were screaming, cheering, baying for blood. The throng of people was too close and too much but Amanda barely even noticed. Her eyes fastened on the happenings inside the caged boxing ring.

A _huge_ human was in there and he lashed out with one hand, smacking the much smaller Andorian in the mouth. The male staggered back to crash into the side of the metal mesh that hemmed him in.

The Andorian, and they were a genuine Andorian, leaned there a moment, attempting to catch their breath.

“Oh my god…his antennae…” Sam suddenly did look very sick and none of it was faked.

“I see it.” Amanda’s voice was remote. Rather, she didn’t see it. Them. Either of them.

The Andorian had lost both antennae.

Judging by their livid scarring, they could well have been torn off. Some time ago. Possibly multiple times, it was difficult to tell at a distance and under all the swelling.

The male was a _wreck_.

He’d obviously been held captive for some time. He was stripped to the waist, his body suit having been ripped that low and leaving him half naked. He was littered with wounds in various states of freshness and severity. Dark blue abrasions glistened new on his face, chest and back. Green and purple bruising marred nearly every inch of him. He limped badly on one side, leaning precariously, his balance ruined by the savaged antennae stumps left to him.

Andorians could _survive_ losing an antenna. It was unpleasant but it sometimes happened to them in honour duels. They could be cut off or broken so severely they had to be amputated after the fact. It was disorientating and debilitating for the Andorian in question. It upset their balance, interfered with their senses and left them altogether quite miserable and irritated until it grew back.

Amanda had never heard of both antennae being removed. She didn’t even know what that would mean. Andorians had severely limited sight as humans would recognise it. They relied heavily on their antennae to make up for it.

“We have to get out of here. We have to report this.” Sam whispered to Amanda, she could only hear him because of the earpiece he had given her hooked up to his soundpack.

“He’s not going to last that long.” Amanda could see it in the Andorian’s eyes. Bleary and unfocused though they were.

He was done.

He wasn’t even fighting back. Just holding himself up against the wire mesh whilst the human moved in and started pummelling him. He would stagger and nearly fall but haul himself upright again after a particularly punishing blow.

He seemed to be angling his face into the punches.

Hoping to quicken it.

“I’m going to be sick.” Sam muttered.

“Pull yourself together. I didn’t say we were leaving him here.” Amanda snapped.

“What the hell are we gonna do?! There’s only two of us.”

“Three if you count the blue one.” Amanda coughed something like a laugh.

This suddenly seemed so hilarious.

Of course this was happening. Of course she had walked into this. Of fucking course she had.

“Do you have a plan?”

“Let’s find out. Cause a distraction as soon as you can, okay?”

“A distraction?” He squeaked. “What kind of distraction?!”

“The _distracting_ kind, Sam. Jesus. Figure it out.”

“What are you going to do?” Sam looked down at her jacket when she handed it to him.

“Something stupid or possibly a felony. I’ll decide on the way.” Amanda shrugged a shoulder and turned away from Sam suddenly becoming _much_ drunker than she had ever been in her life.

“Amanda- -?!” Sam was left anxiously in her wake but Amanda just had to trust him.

Oh, she really hoped this worked.

“Hey-hey-hey-HEY! ‘Scuze me! SCUZE! ME!” Amanda staggered and flailed her way through the press of bodies until she crashed into the barrier at the side of the ring. “Important lady. Comin through!”

Before anyone could think to stop her, Amanda lurched between the roped off barrier to the edge of the cage, twirling past someone that tried to snatch her back and hopped up onto the chainlink cage that hemmed in the fighting. She weaved her way up it. The blood rusted wire cut into her hands but she ignored it, hauling herself up in a swaying climb until she was eye level with the human methodically beating the Andorian to death.

“Hey! Hey. Stop it!” Amanda waved at him, twisting out of the grip of someone that wanted to grab her ankle and drag her down to ground level again. “You’re hoggin’ all the fun, buddy! I wanna fight him!”

The man, splattered in Andorian blood, actually stopped his pummelling to hear what she was saying. 

“You what?!” He had an incredulous smile on his face.

“I wanna fight him!” Amanda dissolved into giggles, blinking deliberately hazy and drunken.

Finally someone grabbed her around the waist and hauled her to the floor off the cage. Another huge human. Lower than Earth gravity had a lot to answer for. Everyone here was a giant.

“What are you doing, little lady?” Another human, this one in a suit.

Amanda’s ‘drunk’ act didn’t waver for a moment.

“I wanna fight the blue guy!” Amanda waved expansively, slapping the human with his arm around her waist in the face hard enough to force him to let go. She staggered into the suited man at being suddenly released and giggled into his ear. “I can do it. I wanna throw some punches!”

“Oh, I like your spirit but I don’t think…”

“No, no, no. That’s. Very. Old. Fashioned.” Amanda stabbed him in the suit lapel with her finger on each word. “This is the twenty third century and I can do anything a man can.”

“Really?” Suit drawled at her then blinked rapidly when he realised what her hands were doing to her shirt.

“’Course I can.” Amanda swayed a little too much as she unbuttoned her shirt and yanked it clumsily from the waistband of her slacks. “I’ll even do it shirtless.”

Amanda grinned, in the fearless way that drunkards do, and hauled her shirt off to wave it over her head like a flag.

“Lemme fight ‘im!”

The crowd, realising there was a different kind of show on the cards, began to cheer. Amanda turned to them, seemingly delighted with their support, stripped to the waist save for her purple bra and jumped up and down gleefully. Pleased that she had won them over.

“He’s very vicious and you are _very_ drunk.” Suit told her, his hand coming to rest on her arm.

“Really?” Amanda smiled brainlessly, her hand coming down on top of his.

Her fingers fisted around one of his, bending it back very much the wrong way, twisting him down under the pressure on his wrist until he crashed to one knee and she loomed over him. Her hair curtained his face as she leaned closer to him, her smile all teeth.

“Not that drunk.”

The crowd _roared_ in appreciation. Chanting something that Amanda couldn’t hear but it was plainly in favour of her getting into the cage with the Andorian.

“Alright, alright.” Suit twisted out of her grip when she released him, shaking the hurt from his hand.

Unlikely, she’d sprained it cranking it like that but didn’t necessarily feel sorry about it.

“Bookies!” Suit turned to bellow into the crowd. “Odds on the Amazon versus the Andorian!”

The crowd cheered again and Amanda was hauled around the side of the cage to the open doorway. The huge human that had been beating the Andorian clapped her on the shoulder as he passed her, apparently delighted that he was getting to tap out and Amanda was shoved into the cage.

Amanda took her time, hoping that Sam was doing something useful with all this opportunity she was granting him.

She made a show of slithering on a pool of blood and windmilled her arms to stay upright. The crowd bawled with laughter and she waved to them like a princess on parade.

This was by far the most bizarre thing she’d ever done and she was including the dragons and wishes with that.

Amanda meandered closer to the Andorian, making a show of stretching her shoulders and flexing her arms. Posing for the crowd. They were lapping it up.

Fucking idiots.

“Is there no end to this indignity?” The Andorian spoke around a fat lip, his accent was different to what she had heard before but Amanda could understand him just fine even if he spoke in his native tongue.

“Of course there is.” She spoke to him in Andorian. “Lady Rafina sent me.”

The Andorian stilled, turning to look at her warily and Amanda grinned broadly.

The Andorian’s eyes darted around, obviously not seeing much and not sure if he should believe her.

“Have you a plan?”

“It’s kind of a work in progress.” Amanda admitted, bouncing on her toes and throwing a few shadow boxing moves to hype the crowd up a bit more. “We need a distraction.”

“What kind of dis- -?”

Amanda never heard the end of it. She was sent flying by the shockwave of an ultrasonic demolition device dissolving molecular bonds.

The molecular bonds of the _ceiling._

A blast of hot air, incredible sound and choking dust flattened everyone in the club to the ground. Amanda was hurled across the ring of the cage and it was the give of the metal mesh that saved her from serious injury. She landed awkwardly on the floor, ears ringing and staggered, falling to her hands and knees. She coughed, voice hoarse and scorched.

“That’ll do.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More Sarek in the next chapter. Promise.


	3. Panic Stations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel I should add that Lady Rafina is played by Angela Basset in my head. She rocked the silver braids too well in Black Panther. 
> 
> Anyway, here's some Sarek for you! He hasn't just been sitting around whilst Amanda gets up to her shenanigans.

**Chapter 3 – Panic Stations**

**_The Grayson Residence…_ **

Sarek prowled Amanda’s house, waiting for Sybok to wake.

It was an inefficient use of his time. He should be working on something whilst waiting for his son to finish his sleep cycle but, despite a full night’s meditation, Sarek found his concentration to be less than was required for even the simplest of tasks.

Sarek had risen from his meditation to find that Amanda had been true to her word and had left the house without a further goodbye to him or Sybok. His son had peppered Sarek with questions to where Amanda had gone and why. Seemingly dissatisfied that Sarek had been left in her place. Even the dog had seemed to look at Sarek accusingly, as if fully aware that this was somehow his fault.

Sarek had eventually managed to bundle both of them off to daycare. He thought it likely that he had somehow insulted the woman in charge of the facility with his ignorance of how such things worked and had resigned himself to the day unfolding in such an unsatisfactory manner.

The scant hours he had managed to spend in the office that morning had continued on the same trend. Sarek had found his composure imperfect and his manner reflected that.

It had taken Ruth only until lunchtime to declare Sarek ‘useless’ and she had cleared his afternoon of meetings without further input from Sarek. He had managed another few hours of meagre productivity before she had succeeded in chasing him from his office. Even if he had only acquiesced due to having to leave to pick up Sybok and Tank from the daycare woman that also disapproved of him.

He had thought he would continue to work remotely once Sybok was settled for his afternoon nap before they went for the afternoon walk to the beach that was apparently entirely necessary for a good day to be had by all.

Sarek thought it unlikely that his day might be salvaged by wet sand staining his robes but if it would make Sybok and the dog happy, he would comply.

So. He was to wait until Sybok awoke until they could complete the next task on the boy’s itinerary. Sarek did not at all resent caring for his son, nor anything that would stabilise him and bring him contentment…he simply wished that he himself might be able to be productive in the interim. Rather than roaming a mostly empty house and continually noting the missing occupant therein.

Sarek moved to the window, standing over the desk Amanda worked at when she was at home, his fingers trailing over the warm toned wood.

He did not understand what had happened the night previous.

She was upset, he knew _that_. Though he had no notion as to why.

He had been moving slowly since their return to Earth. He had attempted to limit his time in her home so that she did not feel overcrowded. Sybok needed the stability, Sarek could do without in the interim until Amanda was ready to cohabitate. He had tried not to press upon her for his mental needs either. He had not wanted to push further into her life than she was ready to give.

It had been an act of will to keep apart from her as much as he had. With such a new bond, every instinct he had clamoured to be closer to her, to cleave to her as physically as he did mentally. He wanted to be around her constantly, to have her in his presence through the bond if it was not possible to be physically within reach of each other at all times. Which, of course, it was not.

On the _Arcadia_ , Amanda had already demonstrated the ability to cordon her mind from his and the willingness to do so. She had done it in order to keep less than encouraging medical information from him. She had been treated by the Gorn and nobody had known what the results of a treatment that rewrote segments of her genetic code would be. She had partitioned that part of herself so that he would not be aware of it.

He had attempted to understand this. He did not fully but he was a Vulcan. One in a new bond who wanted to cement that bond fully. He knew that parts of him would remain irrational about such things until his instincts were satisfied that the bond was as unbreakable as he could make it. He had accepted that this may never happen considering that she was human and as such had a differing definition of mental space.

He was _trying_ to respect her privacy.

Though the notion that she was so distant from him, growing more distant by the second, seemed to gnaw at the innards of his skull.

Parts of Sarek’s psyche were all but howling at him to pursue her. To _show her_ what he meant through the bond. Those primitive parts of him had become louder by the day since he had returned to Earth with Amanda. It tested his control to continue to ignore such instincts but he had to. He would force her into nothing that she did not want.

Which did nothing at all to explain what had happened the night before.

She seemed to doubt the depth of his feelings for her. Which he could not understand. Surely she must know that he would not have remained bonded to her had he not thought them compatible? More than that; had he not desired to be bonded still.

Amanda was a very intelligent individual, by far one of the most astute he had ever come across. She must know that he would not remain attached to her if he did not wish to.

Why then did she speak as if he was uncertain in his bond?

Sarek exhaled forcibly. Tamping down harshly on the desire to pursue her once more. That was a foolish and primitive aspect of his psyche and he would not allow it to control his actions.

That part of him demanded that he initiate a full bond with her. That he seduce her physically as well as mentally, forge their bond into something unbreakable. Blend her mind and her katra with his.

The quake of a shiver threatened to overrun Sarek but he settled himself with a will. He was no animal. He would respect her boundaries and give her the time and space she needed.

If she needed it?

Sarek did not understand humans.

Least of all, apparently, the one he was bonded to.

Sarek thought briefly of the gym he knew that Amanda had set up in her garage. It hosted several free weights machines as well as a punching bag. He toyed with the idea of using some of his excess energy in such calisthenic exercises but realised just as quickly that his greater density would likely destroy much of her equipment.

Which would likely not endear him to her further.

It took several moments for Sarek to realise that a chime was sounding and he shook himself back to the present time.

Sourcing his padd, Sarek opened the device and swiped the call onto the main vid unit in the living area of the apartment.

“Sarek, is Amanda there?”

“Lady Rafina, good afternoon.” Sarek greeted his grandfather’s partner as cordially as he could given her rudeness.

“Yes, yes, whatever. Is Amanda there?!”

Sarek studied the Andorian on the screen, his head cocking to the side.

“Not presently. Could I take a message?”

“I didn’t ask if she’s available, I asked if she was _there_.” Lady Rafina continued unabated. “Sarek, where is your bondmate?”

Sarek’s chin kicked up. His bonding with Amanda was not a publicly known thing, but he supposed Lady Rafina had always had her ways of gathering information. That and Solkar had likely sensed it.

“Amanda is off-world. She left early this morning. To get the first shuttle, I believe.”

Sarek’s brows rose when Lady Rafina cursed low and lyrical in Andorian. She pressed her lips together, her antennae flexing backwards in an expression of distaste or…fear.

“Do you know where she went?”

“She did not mention. What has happened?”

“Sarek, this is important, did she have other trips planned? A routine journey that would explain her absence?”

“Where is it you fear she has gone?” Sarek was not unaware of the edge of a growl that thrummed beneath his voice. His concern for Amanda was not something that should be prodded right now. By anyone.

“The moon.” Lady Rafina snapped, whipping her head in a sharp motion to spill her braided hair from her shoulder down over her back. “I spoke with her yesterday, a passing conversation, I intended to ask her aid in investigating a situation happing on Lunar Colony Five. I was going to introduce her to Sam Archer, have them both gather information for me.”

Sarek’s hands tightened on his padd until something cracked beneath the flex of his fingers.

“I think she may have actually gone there, Sarek. I think she’s gone to the colony.”

“Lunar Colony Five has…differing laws to that of Earth proper but they still operate under the jurisdiction of the Federation judicial system. It is far from a lawless place. What would cause such concern to you that Amanda would visit the colony?” Sarek’s voice was low, dangerous, Rafina’s antennae swept back even further. A defensive action undertaken to prevent them being damaged in a fight.

“I can tell you little, even with your clearance, suffice to say the Andorian Higher Intelligence suspects wrongdoing on the Earth Lunar Colony. Andorian agents were dispatched to investigate. Most of them returned with nothing of worth but we lost contact with the last agent sent. We have not heard from him in several weeks. Though his last report indicated that…that Terra Prime may be active there.”

“Terra Prime?” Sarek could feel the howl of his instincts clawing at the bond but he could not spare the attention for it right now, he needed more information. His voice was viciously level when he spoke. “To clarify. You have sent my wife to investigate a terrorist cell known for harming aliens and those humans that sympathise with aliens?”

“I did not intend to send her!” Lady Rafina shook her head sharply, casting blame was useless at this juncture and they both knew it. “I barely gave her any information. The conversation yesterday was to see if she would be amenable to a collaboration of our efforts. Why would she go to the moon not knowing what was there?!”

“Because she did not know what was there!” Sarek all but snapped. He muscled down the reaction, Lady Rafina falling silent on her end of the connection. Sarek inhaled deeply, mantling his control once more. “You mentioned Sam Archer. Has he accompanied Amanda?”

“As far as we know. He’s not home. He took a cab to the shuttleport this morning at roughly the same time as Amanda would have arrived there.”

“Have you accessed flight manifests, confirmed that they were en route to the Lunar Colony?”

“We have been…unable to access that information as of yet.” Lady Rafina admitted after a moment and Sarek’s eyes narrowed a fraction.

“You are attempting to have your efforts remain clandestine.” Sarek rumbled.

“It’s a delicate situation, Sarek. Earth’s sensitive about Terra Prime and the Andorians aren’t too pleased about them either. I wished to be sure before calling in the troops.”

“I believe your opportunity for secrets and spycraft has passed.” Sarek told her firmly. “I am going to wake my son. We will then make our way to Starfleet Headquarters. You have until then to make your case before the officers of Starfleet. If not, I shall do it for you.”

“Sarek, I’m sorry. I really didn’t expect her to just…go there.” Lady Rafina nodded.

“Do not be sorry. Be useful. Find my wife.” Sarek reached out and stabbed his finger to the screen, ending the call.

He inhaled deeply when a crack raced across that screen as well.

He shored up his control. His son could not see him like this.

Taking deep and measured breaths, Sarek’s mind automatically reached for the bond stretching out towards Amanda but it was weak. The connection not strong enough to tell him anything more than…she still lived.

Instincts raged in him once more. Self-recrimination scalding him for not enforcing the bond when he had the opportunity. Had he done so, Amanda and he would not have fought, they’d have been in the process of cementing their bond still. She would not have misunderstood him so egregiously and left the _planet_ rather than spend a further moment in his presence.

Sarek inhaled sharply and shoved all of that away.

Blaming himself did nothing.

Find Amanda first, deal with the rest later.

**_Starfleet Headquarters…_ **

“Son of my son, live long and prosper.”

Sarek turned his head sharply, grinding to a halt in the hallway. He had not expected Solkar himself to make an appearance.

“Grandfather, peace and long life.” Sarek lifted his free hand in the ta’al salute and nodded in approval when Sybok lifted his little hand and did exactly the same. “Sybok, this is your great grandfather, Ambassador at Large Solkar.”

“Big grandpa?” Sybok looked up at Sarek and then back to Solkar, beaming a smile at the elderly Vulcan.

Something very like amusement lit Solkar’s eyes. Softening his otherwise harsh features. Solkar was the embodiment of Vulcan aristocracy. His robes of such a length that they trailed along the floor in his wake over the carpeted hallway. His advanced age meant that frailties had made themselves known, he walked with the aid of a finely carved walking cane and his formerly dark hair had paled to silver, but he was still a force to be reckoned with.

“Big grandpa?” Solkar lifted a silver brow, turning to look at Sarek.

“Sybok is in the process of learning Standard. He sometimes hyper corrects due to the varied meanings of singular Standard words.”

“I find myself enamoured with the moniker. My great grandson may address me as such. Who is this?” Solkar looked down to see Tank sniffing industriously at the hem of his robes.

The huge dog lifted his bearish head to look up at Solkar and chuffed a low sound, nosing at Solkar’s hand in order to be petted.

Sarek made to make excuses but his grandfather had been the Ambassador to Earth before Sarek had even been born. He knew well the petting requirements of canines.

“A fine animal. Your bondmate’s?”

“Shared with Sybok.” Sarek nodded. “I did not expect to see you here. I thought your duties had taken you as far as Vondem.”

“Diplomatic duties, yes. Familial ones recalled me to Earth. Sybok will need attention whilst yours is elsewhere. I can attend the dog also.”

“Tank.” Sarek supplied, totally nonplussed. “You returned for…me?”

“Of course.” Solkar raised a silver eyebrow. “Family is limited, Sarek. There shall always be another diplomatic mission. I suggest you learn this sooner rather than later.”

“Yes, grandfather.” Sarek nodded automatically, even if he had very little idea as to what was going on.

“Sybok, would you like to come with Big Grandpa? We can find some toys to play with.”

“Yes please!” Sybok twisted in Sarek’s arms, looking up at his father. “Yes, papa?”

“If you are certain…” Sarek trailed off uncertainly. It was difficult to picture the stately Vulcan in front of him dismissing a diplomatic mission to return to Earth to… _babysit_.

“I am certain. Give me the boy and go and help Rafina find your bondmate.” Solkar dismissed any of Sarek’s further misgivings taking Sybok expertly in one arm and settling the boy easily.

“Thank you, grandfather.” Sarek pressed his hand atop his son’s head in farewell. “Be good.”

Sybok nodded and waved to Sarek as he spun away. His long stride carried him to the designated meeting room in mere moments and he strode inside without knocking.

The occupants twisted, falling silent at his entrance but he merely closed the door behind him with a firm click and spoke to the room at large.

“Report.”

The occupants glanced at one another. Apparently wishing another to speak first. There were two Starfleet officers in uniform, two humans in plain clothing and Lady Rafina in residence.

A human in plain clothes, heavily pregnant, rose to her feet to address him.

“Amanda and Sam did take the shuttle to Lunar Five at oh-four-forty-five this morning. They were seen to leave the terminal having passed through customs without incident, they made it to their hotel, where they rented a set of rooms for the next three nights. They left the hotel, according to surveillance footage, at thirteen-thirty-five local and headed to the social sector of the colony. Therein they moved through various eateries, public houses and social scenes. They were last seen at eighteen-forty two heading into a -well- a dive known as _Bram’s_.”

“How verifiable is this information…?”

“Doctor Gabrielle Burnham.” The dark skinned woman dipped her chin in a greeting. “I consult with Starfleet on matters of delicate intelligence. I was asked to access the Lunar network without local authorities being aware. Unless unknown parties knew beforehand what I was looking for and fabricated footage, this information is as verifiable and current as I can make it.”

“They have not been seen exiting the…dive?”

“We think it’s a front for Terra Prime.” Lady Rafina spoke. “Thermal imaging shows far fewer bio signatures in residence than have entered in the last several hours. They enter, move through the structure and then fall off sensors.”

Rafina swiped over her padd, moving captured images from her personal display onto one that dominated one wall.

“The problem with Lunar Five is that it is built on the remains of colonies one through three. There are subsurface tunnels which could stretch miles downward and our sensors cannot penetrate that far.”

Sarek turned at a familiar voice and nodded to Lieutenant Commander Kat Cornwell when she gave her report.

“And I’m tellin’ ya, my girl’s no fool. She’ll have left a trail behind her.”

Sarek blinked at the eldest human in the room who wore civilian attire as well. He was aged, spoke with a pronounced drawl and seemed as irritated with the occupants of the room as Sarek might be beneath his control.

“I’m Perry Fairweather, Amanda’s editor. You know, the one that’s been tryna keep her out of bullshit like this.” Perry saluted Sarek with two fingers flicked from his temple and Sarek recognised the motion as something Amanda did from time to time.

“Did she leave contact information with yourself? Details about what she intended to do when visiting the colony?” Sarek demanded.

“Nothin’.” Perry rubbed at the back of his neck. “We ain’t exactly…on friendly terms right now. She doesn’t like bein’ made to stand still.”

“I had noticed.” Sarek said in a sotto voice, striding across the room and accepting a vacant chair for himself.

He glanced over the uniforms and his dark gaze landed on the rank bar of an admiral sitting opposite him. He raised an eyebrow, waiting for the human to speak.

“Talles Archer,” the Admiral tapped a hand to her chest to indicate she was introducing herself, “I’m hesitant to act on this information at this juncture. We do not _know_ that anyone is in danger. Going in there guns blazing to get our people back could be premature. Not to mention _messy_.”

“Talles, that’s your _son_ up there.” Rafina snapped.

“I am _aware_ , Rafina. I also know who’s responsible for him going.” Admiral Archer responded sharply. “That being said, Lunar Colony Five is a closed system. We go in there with an assault team and there’s a high chance that a stray shot blows out one of the biodomes and then _everyone’s_ dead. I, for one, am not willing to risk an entire colony of people over just two. Besides, even if I wanted to give the order, it would be countermanded in a second by one of my peers. Nepotism can’t have a place in the chain of command. I’m here as a courtesy to Ambassadors Sarek and Rafina. Kat Cornwell is running this mission.”

“Then it is best that you remain silent for the duration.” Sarek told the Admiral and turned to Lieutenant Commander Cornwell, who seemed a little taken aback at his word choice. “Options?”

“As the admiral has said, we are restricted by the relative fragility of the environment of the colony. I think that our best bet would be a small team with low calibre weapons.”

“And if Terra Prime have higher calibre weapons? Since they are not predominantly known for their skills with needlepoint.” Rafina demanded of Cornwell.

“In this instance, Ambassador, ‘low calibre’ simply means ‘not lethal’. Probably. Sonic weapons, concussion ordinance and some -well- truly antiquated crowd control methods should be viable when it comes to stopping the human threats without risking structural integrity.” Kat glanced over to Doctor Burnham who dipped her chin in an enthusiastic nod. “Doctor Burnham has been in liaison with a small team of specialist forces who -quite frankly- do this kind of thing for a living. The only issue is that they will require…payment.”

“What kind of payment?” Rafina asked.

“Done.” Sarek countermanded her. He had not insignificant personal wealth. Whatever it was they wanted, it could be sourced.

“No, Sarek, Vulcans don’t pay mercenaries. That’s an Andorian custom.” Rafina waved him away when he moved to protest. “Consider it a wedding present.”

Sarek subsided after a moment. It was inconsequential at this juncture anyway. It could be dealt with later. He turned back to Cornwell.

“What then is the plan?”

“Burnham, if you could bring up the schematics again?” Cornwell nodded to the other human and turned to indicate the larger screen.

Doctor Burnham swiped at her padd and a map of the lunar colony appeared on the conference screen.

“This is a projection of what we _think_ the lower levels of the colony will look like. We used old scans, construction files and previous colony blueprints to extrapolate. Getting in is fairly simple. We plan on removing the ceiling and using gravity.”

“And to extract?” Sarek prompted when Kat seemed to hesitate.

Cornwell glanced over at him, her tongue swiping over her lips in a show of what he took to be nerves.

“That’s when things get a little more complicated.”

**_Later, High Lunar Orbit…_ **

“Some tea, Ambassador?”

Sarek turned from his vigil by the viewport aboard the _USS Athena_. A small science class vessel that usually shuttled between Earth and its moon on Starfleet business. Apparently the small ship would not look out of place in orbit above the colony.

“Thank you.” Sarek accepted the steaming mug from the dark skinned human woman, Doctor Burnham.

She smiled, close lipped, at him and sipped of her own mug. She seemed ill balanced in her heavily pregnant condition. Shifting her weight from one foot to the other and pressing a hand to her lower back.

“Should you sit?” Sarek would have assumed that she would have had she had need of it, but humans had differing social structures than Vulcans did.

A Vulcan female would sit if she had need or remain standing. In fact, there were very few things that heavily pregnant Vulcan females would not do in the name of easing their discomfort but humans were so attached to their manners. That and Sarek outranked Burnham, socially perhaps, so she may feel the need to pander to him.

“Nah, walking around helps a bit.” Doctor Burnham’s eyes crinkled with her next smile which Sarek had learned meant that it was more deeply felt. “Though I’m more than ready to be done with this whole ‘forming another person’ thing.”

“Your husband accompanies the mercenary team, does he not?” Sarek sipped of his tea again.

“Yeah. He knows how to work the sonic disruptor and the team don’t so…he was needed.”

“I am in your debt. If necessary I can entertain superfluous conversation in order to distract.” Sarek offered.

Doctor Burnham’s head tipped back as she laughed, a full throated sound.

“Yeah. Actually. That would help. I can see why she likes you.” Burnham rubbed at her swollen belly, circles probably meant to soothe.

“Why who likes me?”

“Amanda. I know her. We haven’t seen each other in years, but we used to be in theatre together in college.”

Sarek blinked, tilting his head and adjusting to that.

“Theatre?” He asked for clarification.

“The dramatic arts. I don’t know if she’s told you, but she’s classically trained in just about everything. Ballroom, tap, Latin, jazz. She used to compete. Nationally. Could have gone pro but was content to choreograph for amateur productions.” When Sarek just blinked at her, Burnham laughed again. “Look her up on the network when you have a chance. Shouldn’t be too hard to find one of her competition performances.”

“I believe I shall.” Sarek eyed her when she shifted uncomfortably once more. “You seem to be in…advanced stages of gestation.”

“Meaning I have a larger orbit that some planets? Yeah, pretty much. Baby Burnham is due in a couple of weeks.” Burnham drank more tea. “We don’t know the gender.”

Sarek looked sideways at Burnham and settled for a non-committal nod at that non-sequitur.

“Is it not customary to know the gender of the baby before birth on Vulcan?”

“No.” Sarek considered a moment more. “Unless there is a health concern pertaining to a particular gender on either parent’s side. Is it…important for humans?”

“To some more than others. I don’t see why. Can’t make much of a difference in raising the kid, can it?”

“Not in my experience.” Sarek thought she may require reassurance. “This is your first child?”

“Yeah. The nerves gave it away, huh?”

“Apprehension is understandable when confronting the unknown.” Sarek cocked his head. “Though, my cousin has birthed several children and reacts the same way in each instance so it could be related to the act of parturition itself.”

“You have a son, don’t you?”

“Sybok.” Sarek nodded. He offered when it occurred to him that more information would be expected. “He is three.”

“I’ve never met a Vulcan child that young before. What are they like?”

“Sybok is singular as far as I am aware. He has…differing developmental needs than his peers.” Sarek chose his words carefully.

“Oh, is he okay?” Burnham did look genuinely concerned and Sarek was struck anew by how attached humans could become to even hypotheticals.

Doctor Burnham had never met Sybok, it was entirely possible that she never would, but she was concerned for his welfare simply because…she was human. It seemed to be part of their genetic makeup.

Sarek thought again of Amanda’s insistence that he take a human lawyer to represent Sybok and himself in the inevitable legal altercation with T’Vaal. Perhaps Amanda was correct. Perhaps a Vulcan would not have the same investment in their case as they would not see the need for Sybok to develop in his own manner. Particularly if Sarek was perfectly capable of performing the ritual to strip him of his differences and associated difficulties.

Sarek very much did not wish to be compelled by a court order to mentally manipulate his own son.

“He is well. It is…easier for him on Earth. He has bonded with Amanda’s canine companion; Tank. The animal accompanies him everywhere. Going so far as to attempt to sleep in the same bed when it is not actively discouraged.”

“ _Aaawww_!” Burnham’s voice took on a pitch Sarek did not recognise and her hand touched to her chest. “Do you have pictures?”

“Yes.” Sarek realised -after a beat- that she meant to ask if she might see them.

Sarek produced his padd from the depths of his robe and ignored the crack across the screen. He did not offer an explanation for its disrepair either. Sarek opened the instant messaging app that Amanda had downloaded for him to use and accessed media files. Bringing up one of the _many_ photographs that Amanda had sent to Sarek of Sybok.

“Oh, his wee _boots!”_ Burnham gushed when he showed her the picture.

It was one taken mere days ago. Sybok and Tank playing on the beach. Tank throwing his ball into the air and Sybok jumping, his red wellingtons lifted high and close to his chest. They were both damp and spattered with sand but neither child nor dog appeared to care.

Sarek swept to the next photograph which had been taken later on in the same afternoon. Amanda had taken the pair home, bathed and fed them, then taken the photograph as they had rested by the ‘fireplace’ in Amanda’s living room. Tank was sprawled on his side, Sybok draped across him, sound asleep, little hands fisted in dark brindled fur.

“They are too cute together.” Burnham grinned up at Sarek.

A grin that fell away when Kat Cornwell called to them from the other end of the room.

“Ambassador, Doctor, it’s starting.”

Sarek nodded, stowing his padd within his robes once more. He hesitated, looking down at Doctor Burnham and offered her his arm. She appeared in need of steadying.

Burnham blinked, evidently surprised but managed a wavering smile, threading her arm through his.

“Thank you, Ambassador.”

“I believe when bonded by fraught situations that is customary to allow familiarity.” Sarek nodded to her. “You may call me Sarek.”

“Gabrielle.” Burnham smiled more firmly this time, even if she seemed to have few reasons for doing so.

Sarek had read once that the act of smiling for a human often improved their mood. Making them happier and more optimistic.

He envied them the luxury.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tune in for more next week! 
> 
> We'll see how our daring duo are reunited.


End file.
